Rise From The Ashes
by Blazingfyres
Summary: The soul of any lifeform still remains intact even after death, and Truth hasn't finished his fun with his now newly departed alchemist. The entire cast is sent to a new world with new faces, Fated to encounter the most spectacular events of all time, but with a catch - they soon find that their memories from Amestris haven't completely vanished. Challenge by Yizuki. I own nothing.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey Guys! I died for a year and a half but please don't kill me please please please please ple-**

**Yeah. Blaze is back with a fiery vengeance! (See what I did there? :) So Please expect updates on time for once! Every week, one chapter! (Maybe!)**

**"Reborn" is the original story that I wrote that has been discontinued. I wanted to delete it completely, but I decided deleting it would lose all the love I got for it, and I don't want that to happen. This is the new version, so ditch that one and come over here to read this one!**

**I tweaked the prologue and first chapter to smoothen it out a bit, so I'd appreciate it if you read these and review! I hope you like it!**

_**~DISCLAIMER: I do not own FMA or Harry Potter, and I am posting this story with no intentions of making any sort of profit whatsoever.~**_

**Thanks and Sincerely,**

**~Blaze**

* * *

_ He always hated that grin._

_The way it barred its teeth with its lips pulled up made him feel like it was mocking him, taunting him, as if it were a little boy picking a fight. It was the figure with no form, the ruler of judgment, the balancer of worlds, and yet it chose to give such a condescending smirk, almost as though it thought he was some sort of idiot. It sat clearly, centering itself exactly in front of him, beckoning him forward._

_ "So, Mr. Al~che~mist."_

_It slurred its voice – no, sorry, voices – into a mix of echoing words, shaking the empty white void like an earthquake. "Come for your time-out?"_

_The man tensed on the spot, sweat sliding down his cheek. He stood uncomfortably, fidgeting as he stared back at the being in front of him with an expectant stare. Anxious couldn't even begin to describe how Edward Elric, the former Fullmetal Alchemist felt, standing in front of the so-called jerk ass of a God that he had faced before. The Truth's smile widened, if even possible, and it stood to meet his height._

_"Come now. Let the trial commence."_

"Let the Sorting commence!" McGonagall's voice echoed loudly in the Great Hall, and silence filled the tense air like a balloon ready to explode. Harry could feel sweat dripping from his neck, and he quickly brushed it off, straightening his glasses as the children, one by one, were sorted into their seats. Each child sat and waited, cheered on by the houses they represented.

Then, it began.

"Harry Potter."

_"Edward Elric."_

_Edward was quiet as he straightened his back, swallowing hard. Truth suddenly turned, absently putting his hand on the huge black gate in front of him. "From this point on, you will not return to this place. You will only be sent forward into another Gate. Another time. Another universe. Another Truth."_

_It laughed at the sight of the blonde's blank stare. "Surprised, human? Did you believe this was the only world beyond the Gate?" It brought its hand to its chin, stroking thoughtfully._

_"Now, where to put you…"_

"Now where to put you..." The sorting hat muttered. Harry squirmed in his seat, noting that he found talking hats quite unsettling. His eyes were locked on the leather rim of the tattered, pointed hat, now swinging thoughtfully on his head. He waited impatiently, clenching his fingers around the edges of his chair.

"I see talent. Much talent from you. Yes, a born prodigy. Lots of potential. But where..."

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin..." It was the only calming mantra Harry could think of. "Anywhere but Slytherin..." Now why was it that he got the feeling that this wasn't the first time he was being sorted?

"Not Slytherin, eh?" Harry cringed. "Really? You would do quite well… in fact, I see the talent overflowing… are you sure about your decision?"

_"Ah, yes. I've made my decision." It stood, its massive grin appearing once more. "I'm almost certain, young scientist. Be ready."_

"Alright, then. Better be..."

_"I will show you…"_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

_"…what irony truly is._


	2. Potions and Pipsquaks

_He could only see pictures. Scenes. Just mere frames. Only subtle, vague clips like watching a TV that suddenly and randomly goes static during a storm._

_He first sees himself sitting in front of hundreds of other kids his age. A hood is placed on his head, a little too big for him, spilling over his ears. The growing sounds of muttering and excited chatter, and the headmaster eyeing him with bright blue eyes lit with amusement..._

_The Sorting, he realizes, staring into the crowd of children. He blinks._

_He hears people chanting his name, someone lifting him off of the stool, bright lights and laughter filling his ears._

_He blinks._

_He wishes he hadn't._

_It's white._

_A creature with no face._

_He blinks._

_A man with a turban._

_He blinks._

_A flash of green light._

_He blinks._

_A woman's scream._

_Harry jolted upright, nearly slamming head off the wooden bunk bed. He gasped quickly for air, shivering from cold sweat. His lungs felt like they were going to burst... even breathing was too painful._

_Calm down, Harry, he thought, shaking his head._

_There was no hooded figure._

_There was no woman screaming._

_He blinked._

_Harry began to rub his temples smoothly, breathing heavily. It wasn't the first time he had been bothered in the middle of the night, but never before were they so… real._ _He would have passed it off as a nightmare, but it was just too vivid to be a ghastly vision. The terrible headache was proof enough that it wasn't just an exaggeration of the subconscious that expressed his built up emotions. That was what dreams were, right?_

_He blinked._

_His eyelids were tugging downwards, and he sighed, taking one last look outside the dark window. He lay back onto his pillow, listening to his dorm mates' shallow, even breathing, watching the moon's eerie light filter in through the foggy glass by his bedside._

_ He closed his eyes._

* * *

"Harry!"

Something slammed into his head. _Hard._

He blinked, trying to make out where he was.

The musty, old smell… the thousands of bound covers shelved neatly… A somewhat bright room… a rickety old desk… lots and lots of pages…

The library.

He snapped up, somewhat dazed and rather pissed from being taken out of his reading time. He swiveled in his chair, face to face with a rather ticked off freckled redhead.

"What the heck was that for?!" Harry hissed, frantically rubbing his head. Ronald Weasley merely folded his arms, staring down at the relatively height deprived bookworm. "You stuck yourself in here again, that's what!" He snapped back, slamming the book that had given Harry a headache onto the table. "Geez, Harry. You actually got through all of these?"

He went back to reading. "Yeah, but..." he paused, ruffling his hair, "half of this stuff is complete bull. I mean, dragons and witchcraft? What a waste of time."

"Magic isn't a waste of time. It's-"

"Yeah. I know. Some sort of beautiful art cast by wandlore. A technique that's supposed to be revolutionary." He looked back up.

"Might I add that it's supposed to be a myth?"

Ron looked dumbfounded. "You're The Boy Who Lived. You are technically a legendary hero. You're famous in the wizarding world. And you don't believe any of it?" Ron smirked. "If you ask me, that is sort of ironic."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. For some reason I find science more reliable."

"Whatever. You're acting a lot like Hermione." He nodded towards the brown haired girl sitting on the other side of the room, well out of earshot. "Studying even though term hasn't even started yet. That's got to be a record." Harry gave him an annoyed look. "Term starts tomorrow morning. And besides, this isn't studying. This is researching. There's a difference."

Ron yawned. "Whatever. Have fun with your books. It's 11 o' clock and I've got to get to bed." He suddenly stopped. "Hey, Harry, you got any food? I'm starving."

Harry just shook his head at Ron's retreating figure and went back to reading.

It wasn't that Harry didn't believe in magic. The refilling food and the floating candles had to be proof enough that this wasn't just some hoax. Science wasn't advanced enough to create effects like these, so it had to be true. And somewhere inside, Harry thought it was really, really cool.

But for some strange reason, he felt compelled to reject it.

He was thinking too deep, and Harry was only eleven, so he decided not to dwell on the thought too long. After all, eleven year olds don't go around doing stupid things that could potentially kill them, right?

Oddly enough, Harry felt a pang of guilt and regret after that.

The first thing Harry saw when he sat down for breakfast the next morning was a rather red animal tearing apart it's dinner plate.

And that wasn't the first.

He couldn't even see Ron's head over the piles of stacked dishes towering in front of him. He kept eating away, shoving anything and everything into his mouth, spluttering crumbs and sauce; some of it was dribbling down his chin. Harry mentally thanked whatever was out there that the food kept refilling itself, or else Ron would have emptied an entire table's worth.

"Hey-*munch*-Harry-*chomp*." Ron immediately stopped wolfing down his… what, twenty-seventh plate?

Percy the Prefect irritably waved his wand, causing the plates to vanish. "Have some manners, Ronald," He said sternly before continuing his own meal.

"Ahhh… that was too good!" Ron finally said, sighing with satisfaction. "A little too much," He heard Hermione choke out. Ron didn't seem to notice.

"Anyways, Harry, what's up?" He handed Ron his schedule.

"Well, we have all of our classes together, since we're in the same House and all. I think we have Potions next," Harry replied. He cringed at the thought. "It's down in the dungeons."

"Professor Snape is the Potions Master, right? Fred and George told me he favors Slytherin. Gave all the Gryffindors a hard time, apparently."

"They have trolls down here," Ron said randomly, his eyes flashing as he eyed the torches hanging dreadfully from the mossy walls, chains wrapped around the ceiling like deadly streamers. The other Gryffindors gasped dramatically in response, staring bewildered at the dreary scenery with distaste and fear.

"So it's... Professor Snape, huh?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows. The way that teacher had looked at him during the opening feast sent shivers down his spine. Gripping his books tighter, he hesitantly walked into the classroom.

A funny scent of sorts made his nose tingle. The desks were made of stone, and the bookshelves were musty and dull looking. The only light came from small lanterns that hung on the walls and set on the tables. Ron and Harry quickly settled down in the back.

"Hello, class." A deep, gravelly voice bounced off the walls. Harry tensed as the hook-nosed teacher with shoulder length hair got up from his desk. His eyes were cold and dull, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Welcome to Potions." Harry cringed. His voice didn't seem welcome at all.

_"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." _**(1)**

His mind somehow drifted along with the monotone. He found it scary, yet somewhat lulling, as if it were asking him to lie down… sleep… sleep, Harry… Harry…

"Harry!" Came a hiss from next to him. He snapped out of his dream and glanced at Ron. His look was frantic as he motioned up front. Snape was glaring.

"Not listening Potter? Daydreaming doesn't give you an excuse to not listen to my lectures," He sneered. Harry was about to protest when Snape interrupted.

"Tell me now, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry thought for a second. "A sleeping draft that's strong enough to kill you," Harry recited immediately. Hermione put her hand down. Thankfully he had read over his books before.

Snape growled. Obviously he wasn't pleased. "Can you tell me where you can find bezoar?"  
"In a goat's stomach," he answered casually, smirking.

Snape was practically fuming. "Tell me what the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood." Surprisingly, his voice was just as calm as before, even though his eyes blazed darkly with the light.

Harry gritted his teeth, his smirk dying away. Damn. He didn't know this one. And he was really getting pissed off. He quickly glanced across the room. Hermione was practically standing now, her arm raised high above her head.  
He glared straight back into those dead eyes. "I don't know, sir. But Hermione has had her hand up the entire time. Why don't you ask her?" He sharply motioned towards the brown haired girl who was now blushing scarlet, slipping back down to her seat.

Snape was apparently more pleased with that answer than any other. "Fame doesn't come with manners, does it? Sit down, Granger. And five points from Gryffindor, Potter, for your undeniably irritating attitude."

Harry tried not to listen to Draco Malfoy's snickering across the room. Harry clenched his fist, taking the time to ignore the rest of the day's lesson.

"What was his deal?" Ron ranted as they filed out of class. "Five points for not answering a question, another one for 'talking' when you were helping me, two points for Seamus accidently blasting his cauldron, and another two for apparently 'letting' Neville put the porcupine quills BEFORE turning the burner off!" Harry simply grunted in response, staring straight down to his feet. Obviously, that teacher was going to be hard to mess with.

"Ah, Potter."

As if on cue, Malfoy arrived to make the day even worse. "Have fun in potions class?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron spat, giving him a death glare.

"Weasel-Bee wants to have a go with me, does he? Ooh, I'm so scared!" He mocked, pretending to faint as Goyle dramatically caught him.

"A shrimp like you can't scare me, Potter!" He taunted, copying Snape's sneer.

Something in Harry made his blood begin to boil. Maybe it was the whole encounter in potions class; he wasn't exactly sure. But that was it. Malfoy had gone and snapped some thing in his system.  
He stepped quickly toward him. Malfoy was caught off guard.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT YOU CAN SQUISH LIKE AN ANT?!"

The echo was so loud it bounced off the dungeon walls. Malfoy reeled back. Even Ron seemed to have been shocked by the reaction. Harry began to jab Malfoy in the ribs with every stressed word.  
"Don't call me _short_, or _midget_, or _shrimp_, or _anything_ that insults my size. _Got_ it?" Malfoy whimpered.

"Let's go, Ron." Grabbing the redhead, Harry stomped up the stairs, leaving a much bewildered, and somewhat pleased, platinum blonde behind.


	3. Broomsticks and Broomheads

"Let me go!"

"Are you kidding me? You're going to pulverize him!"

"I don't care! Just let - me - go!"

Ron Weasely was having too much trouble with his little friend, finding it harder and harder to stop him from stabbing a certain idiot's throat. Harry tugged forward, lashing out and squirming in his grip, but Ron chose not to let go and instead tightened his hold. He could only wish Neville hadn't decided to fall fifty feet from his broomstick; he would've been flying around on the Quidditch Pitch without a care instead of wasting his energy holding Harry back.

He snapped back to reality when he was given another strong lurch from his spot. "Take it back!" Harry cried out, barring his teeth and clenching his fists. "Take back what you said about him!"

"I'm afraid I can't," came the condescending reply. Malfoy stood only a little ways from the Gryffindors, surrounded by his admirers from Slytherin. He crossed his arms over his chest, a smug smirk sitting comfortably on his face. "Especially since it's the truth. Plumpbottom really is a wimp, and you're still a scrawny little pipsqueak."

"I'm not tiny, darn it! And don't ever say anything about Neville again! I'm gonna wring your neck, Malfoy! You hear me?!"

"Loud and clear." Malfoy smirked, tilting his head to the side. Then he pulled something small out of his pocket, tossing it straight up into the air. The tiny orb gleamed in the sunlight, the glass ball finding itself back in Malfoy's grip as he swiped it from the air. "I see Plumpbottom forgot his Remembrall, too! I guess he doesn't want it, then..."

"You JERK!"

"Come and get it, Potter."

Draco dashed forward, snatching up the nearest broomstick he could find on the ground. He smoothly climbed on before giving the Gryffindors a evil sneer, then took off into the sky.

Harry burst from Ron's iron grip, grabbing the broomstick that lay in front of him. "Give it back!" Harry yelled, gritting his teeth.

"Stop it, Harry! He isn't worth it!" Hermione yelled, charging forward. "You heard what Hooch said! One step on the broom and - "

"Expelling, my butt!" He shouted back. "I'm gonna floor that guy!"

"Harry - "

Too late. Harry flew, losing balance on his broom as he reached higher and higher, heading straight toward the blonde headed bastard. Malfoy easily swerved out of the way, and Harry was forced to grip his broom until his knuckles turned white just so that he wouldn't fall.

"Give it here, Malfoy." Harry thrusting his hand out. Suddenly he was shaking, and he realized how high up he really was. Quickly brushing it off, he focused on the blonde in front of him.

But now Draco's usual smirk had disappeared, replaced instead with a wavered frown. His confidence had been replaced with uncertainty, making his expression wearier and much less intimidating. Harry shot him a perplexed stare before his mouth twitched up in a crazy grin, realization suddenly hitting him in the head.

"I see you're useless without your friends," Harry said coolly. Malfoy seemed to take that hard, because he swayed dangerously on his broom as he turned away. He quickly lifted the Remembrall back up, tossing it easily in front of him, growing a somewhat strain smile.

"You want to play, runt? Fetch!" He threw the Remembrall, watching it arch up into the air as it plummeted to the ground.

Harry knew he wanted to blow up in Malfoy's face at that point, but he felt something tug at his gut, and he lurched forward, diving for the ball. He gained speed, falling faster and faster, and now the small orb was just at the tips of his fingers, and he was going down, twenty feet, fifteen, ten. Panicking, He barely grabbed the thing with his fingertips,pulling up with his weight.

He barely made it, the ball still clasped in his fingers as he awkwardly landed, stumbling over his feet as he ran towards the other Gryffindors, raising the Remembrall above his head. The group of kids roared in triumph, chanting Harry's name, just like they had on the day he was sorted. He grinned, tossing the ball up, passing it around and dropping his broom gently to the ground.

By then, Draco had made it to the field, surrounding himself with his friends from Slytherin, all sending death glares in his direction. Harry just shrugged them off, returning him a devilish look, staring down the gaze.

"POTTER!"

The cheering went cold at once. Nobody dared to move or make a sound. Harry knew that voice anywhere, and by the sound of it, she didn't sound happy at all. Sure enough, they could see the tall Mrs. McGonagall storming down the pathway like a madwoman, her emerald robes flailing behind her. Her eyes were small and beady, her frown curled into dark anger, every second her eyebrow twitching dangerously.

"HARRY POTTER, you WILL bring yourself in front of me RIGHT NOW if you DON'T want your HEAD smashed IN!"

Probably every single person was completely terrified by now, scooting at least ten feet back. Only Harry stood miserably in front, his eyes fixed on the Transfiguration teacher.

"Come with me, Potter," she said quietly through gritted teeth. She grabbed the edge of his cloak and began to drag him towards the path, a frightening rage like expression on her face. Harry couldn't even speak as he was yanked towards the cobblestone, now watching the group of Gryffindors getting smaller and smaller. The last thing he saw before the door was slammed shut was another bright grin on the blonde bastard's face.

* * *

"Shut up, Ron. You're making me sound like a total wimp. McGonagall isn't that scary, and she didn't threaten to crack my head open."

"But she may as well have. you were completely terrified. You should've seen your face! You were as pale as Neville's bedsheets!"

"Alright, that's stretching it. Fine, I was sorta intimidated - "

"A little intimidated, my butt - "

"WHO ARE YOU CALLIN' LITTLE?!"

Neville felt a bead of sweat fall down his cheek as he walked back with Ron and Harry from the hospital wing, stratching the back of his head with a strained smile. Harry fell into another heated argument with Ron as the ginger explained what had happened after Neville's little scene on the Quidditch Pitch. He found it kinda nice to have someone walking back with him, though; it was nice to have friends for once.

"So - Harry - you didn't get expelled?" He stuttered, clutching the collar of his shirt.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I was," He replied. Neville noticed how significantly Harry's voice had softened from when he faced him. "McGonagall ended up asking me to join the Quidditch team as a Seeker. I mean, she did sort of scream at e for being abnormally rash, and Wood had been reduced to a stuttering turd by then, but yeah. That's about it."

Ron groaned. "You're making this sound like some dumb prize at a muggle party. This is a big deal. Joining the Quidditch Team as a first - year? You just broke several records, and you've "

"Maybe, but I just don't care." Harry turned back to Neville. "But am I glad you didn't get too banged up. I'm surprised you fell fifty feet without even so much as a scratch."

"Well, a sprained wrist is technically a scratch," Neville stuttered out, pulling a strained smile as he lifted his arm up. "But it's no big deal."

"Look who's getting all big brothery!" Ron teased, jabbing a finger at Harry. "I wouldn't be surprised if Neville survived a tornado, though. He may as well be wearing a suit of armor under all of that! No need to get all worked up!"

"Shut up!" Harry snapped, his cheeks tinting red. "And it isn't like I'm his brother! Can't a person be concerned without you torturing them? Geez, give me a break!"

Although... Harry suddenly felt a pang in his chest. Why did he feel like he had just lied?

"Hey, scarface!"

Harry began to turn around, another retort crossing his tongue, but he didn't get a chance to say it.

Because a rather thick book slammed straight into his face.

"And down he goes!" Cried Ron as Harry fell to the floor, clutching his face.

"What the heck? That nearly broke my nose!"

"Be glad it didn't!" Came the reply of Hermione Granger, her fists against her hips with a frown cut into her normally flushed face. "You were being a complete idiot back there! You totally let Malfoy take advantage of you!"

Harry spat what looked suspiciously like blood. "Look, I really don't want you to lecture me, bookworm. Go away."

"Look who's talking, shortstuff. Anyway," Hermione said exasperatedly, cutting off another rant, "did you by chance tell your friend Neville here about where you were planning on going tonight?"

"You're going somewhere?" Neville asked curiously, a twinge of worry slithering between his teeth. "You aren't thinking of skipping curfew, are you?"

"How did you find out?" Harry yelled, avoiding Neville's question. "Who told you?"

"I have my sources." A silence. "Okay, fine, I was standing right there, but that doesn't make a difference! I'm not going to let you go, Harry! You're already stepping over the line by getting into the Quidditch team. McGonagall's not going to be there to save you!"

"And since when did this ever concern you?" Ron's voice became dangerously snappy. He widened his eyes and turned his eyebrows down, and Harry only noticed how scary he looked. "This is our fight. Girls don't need to get involved."

"Well, I just so happened to get lost when I saw you, and I thought you could do for some good advice after nearly falling off your broom," Hermione replied haughtily. "So were you going to drop off poor Neville before going off on your own? Or were you about to drag him along, too?"

"You're fighting? Like a duel?" Neville looked absolutely terrified, his skin paler than before. "Now? After curfew?"

"Calm down, Neville-"

"But you could get caught! Or killed!"

"Which is exactly why - "

"Shut up, Hermione - "

"Now calm down, Neville - "

" - it's too dangerous - "

If they had noticed the ginger cat sooner, maybe things would have gone smoother. But they didn't, and things began to go downhill from there.

"WHO'S DOWN THERE?"

The four of them froze in their tracks, suddenly stopped by Filch's echoing voice. Then they all scrambled into a sprint, running blindly, following each othrr through a series of stairs and corridors. Filch's footsteps seemed to be gaining and fading every few seconds until they finally found a door.

"Darn, it's locked!"

"Oh, move over!" Hermione hissed, flicking out her wand. "Alohamora!" She whispered. The chain broke free and they all piled in, slamming the door shut.

"I guess we missed curfew, anyway, " Neville said miserably. "Why did we gave to go in here?"

" 'Cause little miss know-it-all decided to get us all lost!" Ron hissed back.

"Hey! I just so happened to be coming out of the library, alright? It was pure coincidence."

"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't be surprised if you followed us here!"

"Oh, shut up, that's so not true!"

"Eew! Ron! Stop slobbering on me!" Harry cried out.

"...I'm not slobbering on you."

"I'm not either."

"G-guys..." Neville's voice came out like a squeak. "I-I think I found your culprit."

The other three looked up to where he was pointing. And there, standing in front of them, was a twenty foot, three headed dog towering above them.

"Er... nice kitty?" Ron tried.

A loud, sickly howl exploded from all three heads, and they began scrambling for the door, shouting in synch with the dog.

"Of course, you HAD to say KITTY!" Harry yelled, panicking.

"I'm sorry! I panicked!" Ron yelled back.

Hermione, reaching there first, yanked the door open and dived out. The rest of them followed, piling on top of each other, Harry pulling the door shut with a bang. For a couple seconds, they took the time to get to their feet, stretching their arms

"Note to self: never hang out with you people again," Neville wailed before falling over with a heavy thud against the stone floor.

* * *

**I, know, you, I walked with you once upon a dream...**

**Sorry. I have Lana Del Rey stuck in my head. _ ****So, second chapter! I meant for my bro to read over it, but he's not gonna be home for the next day almost, and I got impatient... sorry if it isn't the best. **

**I hinted a couple characters there, you know... I mean, it was blatantly obvious, and you should probably be getting a feel of at least a couple characters, including Ed!Harry. **

**Let me know who you think who's who, okay?**

**I should've probably written this before, but whatever - here are the requirements for the challenge by Yizuki:**

**_1. Ed MUST be Harry Potter_**

**_2. Roy MUST be Draco Malfoy_**

**_3. The characters must remember who they are in extremely dangerous situations (QuirrelMort, Basillisk, etc.)_**

**Yup. So I spoiled a bit about Draco, but I don't care.**

**Chao for now!**

**~Blaze**


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